By Debbie L. Miller
Judy’s week had included a doomed job interview at the public library followed by a blistering interrogation at the Unemployment Office. The week before, her landlord had informed her that she’d have to vacate the apartment in 30 days. The week before she had learned that her health insurance was being cancelled and her boss had told her that the grant that funded her job teaching English and Citizenship to immigrants was not going to be renewed.
She’d be out of a job next month, which meant looking for an apartment without proof of income. Rents had skyrocketed in Brooklyn and she’d be unable to find anything she could afford. Thank God she still had Anna, her trusty 20-year-old Honda Civic, because if need be, she could always live in her.
The HR people at the library were unimaginative and annoying as hell. Bureaucratic nonsense. How many people had stopped to question why she was sitting in the waiting room, double checking that she really belonged there while staring dubiously at her tattered briefcase? This wasn’t the Pentagon or CIA headquarters. It was the public library.
She smiled demurely and answered their inane questions. She had to pity these people, really. They’d chosen to work amidst others who had exactly the same goals — a secure job with no surprises, protection from…
